


Humility

by AsexualDerek (Cammerel)



Series: Character Growth [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Nice Jackson, Scenting, Werewolf Jackson, Werewolf Jackson Whittemore, Werewolf Mates, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-03-18 08:29:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3563003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cammerel/pseuds/AsexualDerek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jackson returns from London after ten months of soul-searching to become a better werewolf as well as a better person, for Stiles; his mate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When Jackson comes back from London, it’s with a clearer perspective on things and an open mind. It took some time when he first got there, but he fell in with a nice pack eventually and they showed him the ropes, helped him deal with shifting and controlling the animal within.

Having a fresh start was nice, and being accepted for once did wonders for his self worth, but his pack knew that him being there was only temporary, until he got a grasp on the person he wanted to be - _the person he wanted to be for Stiles_. It’s bittersweet when he leaves, but he misses home as well, misses the only person that’s ever actually loved him despite who he was.

The first place he goes when he gets back to Beacon Hills is Scott’s, because according to Lydia, McCall’s the new alpha and he doesn’t want to be roaming around as an Omega in a place as dangerous an notorious as Beacon Hills.

He knocks loudly and pockets his hands, knowing he could just as easily tell Scott that it’s him, but he kind of wants to see the look on the other werewolf’s face.

Scott looks up from where he’s seated, waiting for Stiles, and he tilts his head as he breathes in, recognizing the scent of a werewolf at once, and he frowns. He knows where his betas are, and it’s disconcerting, the idea of another werewolf coming to his home address, but he stands up, walking to the door, ready to shift at any moment, but then he stops when he opens it.

“Jackson?” he asks incredulously, grinning slowly and looking at the werewolf for a moment before moving out of the way, “Come in, I didn’t know you were coming back so soon, dude.”

“I’ve been gone for like ten months, McCall,” Jackson snorts at the other man, but smiles as well as he steps into the house, “That’s not exactly what I’d call ‘soon’.” He chuckles and turns to the other werewolf, thinking about how they never used to get along, and he wants things to be different this time, “So what’s up in Beacon Hills? A little banshee told me you’re the alpha now.”

“I am,” Scott confirms, closing the door and grinning even wider as he watches Jackson, “I’ve got a few betas, too. You know Derek, but now there’s Liam and Brett-is that why you’re here? You wanting to be a part of the pack? Because, if that’s the case, I can’t have you skipping town any time you want.”

“I’m back for good,” Jackson informs him, “Trust me, I needed to get away for a while, but I’m-I’m here to stay. So, yeah, if you don’t mind, I kinda need an alpha.” He shrugs then and grins unsurely, because he’s not really positive how this whole thing works, whether or not he needs to pledge himself to Scott.

“Okay, cool, we can definitely use more werewolves,” Scott says, reaching out and offering his hand to Jackson. He’s kind of more concerned about Stiles, though.

Jackson and Stiles didn’t really leave off on a good foot, things were pretty rough there near the end, and during the summer it got bad, but now that Stiles has this darkness in him like Scott and Derek, he has to wonder if Jackson coming back will make it difficult for his best friend.

Jackson reaches out and takes Scott’s hand to shake it, “Awesome,” he says, thankful that it went so smoothly. It’s kind of weird to imagine Scott, of all people, as an alpha, but he imagines he’s not the only one who’s changed over the past ten months.

“How is he?” he asks then, unable to stop himself, and he doesn’t elaborate because he knows that Scott knows who he’s talking about.

“Stiles?” Scott asks, raising his brows as he sits down on the couch, “He’s okay, you know, he’s-things have been pretty bad in Beacon Hills since you left. He’s changed a lot. But he misses you, if that’s what you’re asking, he doesn’t say it, but it’s pretty obvious.”

Jackson follows suit, but he sits down in the chair across the coffee table from the couch instead, “I miss him too,” he admits, and rests his forearms on his knees, “I’m glad he’s okay.”

He sighs and decides it’s probably best to change the subject, “Anything crazy happening right now or is it pretty chill?”

Scott frowns and shrugs, “Deaton keeps saying it’s like the calm before the storm, so I guess it’s about to get bad, I dunno. Other than Stiles, Derek, and I having this whole darkness thing again, nothing’s really come up lately. I mean, if anything’s happened with Stiles, he hasn’t told me about it. But I haven’t experienced anything out of the ordinary.”

“Do you think I should wait to tell him I’m back?” Jackson asks then, and it feels a little odd asking for Scott’s opinion, but he is both Stiles’s best friend and his new alpha, “I mean, I just-I don’t wanna add any more stress than necessary.”

Scott’s about to respond with something along the lines of ‘that’s your decision’ when he hears the tires screeching outside and the jeep being parked, the door opening and the rushed footsteps before the door bursts open and Stiles walks in.

“Hey, Scott, who’s the douchebag that parked in my-” Stiles stops as he looks around and his eyes fall on the person sitting in the chair in the living room, directly across from Scott and Stiles feels his body freeze up as he sees Jackson, “Oh.”

“I guess I’d be the douchebag that took your parking place,” Jackson says slowly and straightens his back as he stands up, eyes slightly wide as he takes in Stiles’s appearance, especially the longer hair.

“Hi,” he says awkwardly. It’s good to see Stiles, even if they’re not exactly what they used to be.

“Hi,” Stiles responds numbly, “Yeah, it would be you.” He can’t feel his feet, it’s like someone just kicked him in the gut, stealing his breath, and he looks at Scott helplessly, “What the Hell, dude, is this some kind of sick joke or something?”

Scott narrows his brows in confusion, “What?”

“Sick joke?” Jackson asks slowly and looks from Stiles to Scott with his brows furrowed in confusion, “I don’t understand, who’s playing a joke?” It’s not really the reaction he’d been hoping for, but definitely more along the lines of the reaction he’d been expecting, “I can move my car if it’s that big of a deal.”

“Oh my God, stop talking already, please,” Stiles all but exclaims, grabbing his bag back up and looking at Scott, “Look I know you like to play matchmaker or whatever, but next time invite me over when he’s **not** here,” he pointedly ignores Jackson as he turns around and leaves the house.

Scott raises a brow at Jackson, “Uh, is it too late to suggest you wait to tell him you’re back?”

“Yeah, I think so - e-excuse me” Jackson says and takes off after Stiles, closing Scott’s door behind him.

“Stiles, wait a minute,” he says as he catches up with him, grabbing the other man gently by the forearm, “Look, I didn’t know you were coming over. I just got back and I heard Scott was the alpha, so I thought I’d come to see him, I swear I didn’t know you were coming.”

Stiles turns, pulling his arm from Jackson and backing away until he’s at his jeep, “Okay? Good for you. I’m still confused as to why you’re even back here in the first place.” So he’s a little bitter about Jackson leaving, maybe it shows, “Why come back?”

“Because it was never meant to be permanent,” Jackson shakes his head and looks at Stiles, “I needed...” he sighs, “I needed to better myself, so I could be better for you.” He remembers, quite vividly, Stiles telling him that they weren’t good for one another, “But I’m getting the feeling you don’t want me back in Beacon Hills.”

“Well, considering you didn’t tell me you were leaving, and you never mentioned you were coming back, I’m getting the feeling that what I want and/or prefer doesn’t really matter, regardless,” Stiles says, rolling his eyes before running them up Jackson’s body as subtly as possible; he’s gotten _bigger_ , “You didn’t tell me you were leaving, you just left.

“So what do you want, a big pat on the back and a ‘good to see you, man’, like Scott no doubt gave you?”

“That’s not fair,” Jackson says and moves closer, “What would you have even said to me, Stiles? Would you have been okay with it, with me leaving?” he asks, “We weren’t together, and if I would’ve taken the time to actually stop and tell you, I probably wouldn’t have left.”

“Put yourself in my shoes,” Stiles says, voice coming off softer than he’d intended, stepping back until he hits the jeep, “Imagine **me** leaving Beacon Hills to move abroad for an undetermined amount of time - possibly forever - you dunno, because no one else really knows either. Imagine me never telling you. Imagine hearing it from Lydia or Scott instead. Feels good, doesn’t it? _Really good_.”

Jackson continues to advance on Stiles and he doesn’t stop until there’s about an inch between their chests, “Would a phone call or a post card have made any difference?” he asks, eyes dropping to the other man’s mouth quickly, then back up to his eyes, “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I was a bonehead, I just-I needed to get away for a while, needed growing space and I couldn’t do that here.”

“ **Anything** would’ve made a difference, how do you not get that?” Stiles responds nervously, and he can’t help getting horribly aroused by how close Jackson is.

It’s been a crazy long time since they’ve been together, and there’s never been another person, so it’s kind of like his body is on overdrive just being near Jackson, “I’ve almost died a few times since you left. What if I had? And the last real conversation we’d had was about breaking up.

“I’ve practically gone through Hell, like I seriously think I’m losing it, and you’ve just been off in London, doing whatever - getting your werewolf on. And now you’re back and you just expect... well I-I don’t really know _what_ you expect.”

“I should’ve been here for you, and I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if something would’ve happened,” Jackson breathes Stiles in from a slight distance and it’s a first since he’s been turned, but the other man kind of smells like _home_ \- as corny as that sounds.

He closes his eyes for a moment, trying to steel himself as he breathes calmly, then he looks at Stiles again, “I’m not expecting anything, but I feel like you need to understand that what I did, I did for you. I mean, I did it for me, but it was for you, too. It sucked having to be around you, having to look at you only to be reminded that I wasn’t good enough.”

“Oh my god, do you not see how that’s seriously not the issue?” Stiles asks, sliding against the jeep to try and get away, “You’re good enough, you **are** good enough, that wasn’t the issue. You and **I** aren’t good for one another, that’s where the problem is. We fight, we fuck, that’s it. And you just-you piss me off, you do, and that’s where it all is. It’s rivalry, it’s lust, I explained this last time. You’re **not** the problem. You and I **are**.”

“Can you maybe the lose the attitude for one minute?” Jackson asks and puts his palm up against Stiles’s jeep, boxing him in, “I’m not asking you to forgive me, but I’m kind of hoping you’ll at least give me a chance to make it up to you. Do you still love me?” he asks curiously, and he’s hyper aware of Stiles’s heart beats, waiting for a blip or a stutter.

“Baby, I-” Stiles stops with the Freudian slip and his cheeks heat, eyes widening as he looks at Jackson, mouth open as he blinks and looks away, “I-” Stiles closes his mouth and tries to shift away still, “It doesn’t matter, okay, that’s beyond the point, we’re over, we’ve been over for almost a year now.”

“You do,” Jackson says and pointedly puts his other hand against the jeep to keep Stiles in place, smiling sadly at the old pet name, “I know you do. So why are you so intent on things being completely done between us, huh?” he leans in, mouth just next to Stiles’s ear, “Give us a second chance, not me, but _us_.”

The werewolf leans back far enough to look into the other man’s eyes, tilting his head until their noses are brushing, “I missed you.”

Stiles feels his entire body react to Jackson in a way it **shouldn’t** be allowed to, he practically groans when the other man’s mouth rests by his ear and Stiles stares at Jackson helplessly, “I... I missed you, too,” he says back, numbly reaching out to rest his hands on the werewolf’s hips, even though he’s internally screaming at himself not to.

Jackson grins and slowly moves his own hands from the jeep to wrap his arms around Stiles’s neck, pulling him into a tight hug and he lets out a shaky breath, because it feels good to have the other man so close again. He buries his face in the crook between Stiles’s shoulder and his neck, then breathes him in again, but it’s so much better this time as he moves his nose up the side of the other man’s throat, the familiar scent intensified.

Stiles wraps his arms around Jackson’s waist and all but melts against the other man, feeling his knees get a little weak as he smiles to himself. He opens his eyes and blinks when Jackson starts scenting him. Stiles’s cheeks flush furiously as he tries to stay still and not pull away, or lean in. He shouldn’t really do either, but most of all he shouldn’t lean into it. This can’t happen, they can’t get back together, no matter how good it feels, but **god** does he want to.

Jackson pulls one hand back around and rests his palm on the other side of Stiles’s neck, his nose still pressed to the warm flesh on the other side and he growls his contentment, thinking that he could just stand here like this for hours, breathing in Stiles’s scent.

“You smell amazing,” he breathes out in hot puffs against the skin. He pulls back when he realizes that his eyes are flashing almost uncontrollably, catching glimpses of it in one of the jeep’s windows, “I should get going,” he says suddenly and looks down, around, anywhere but Stiles’s eyes, “Let you get back to whatever it was you were planning with McCall.”

When he feels like he has more control, he finally meets the other man’s eyes, “See you around?”

Stiles watches Jackson’s eyes flit back and forth and he can’t help smiling when they finally meet his. He’s been around Derek and Scott enough to know how the whole werewolf thing works, and then there’s Cora and Liam, and Brett, of course, so he understands how difficult it is to keep things under control. Jackson hasn’t ever really been in much control of himself before, but it’s exciting to see the blue eyes flash. His eyes were already astonishing before, but now they’re almost mesmerizing.

“Yeah,” Stiles mumbles weakly, his knees practically shaking in excitement, “I do... want to see you around, that is.”

Jackson can’t really figure out **why** Stiles is smiling at him like that, but it’s a smile nonetheless and he’ll take it, “Good,” he says slowly, eyes searching the other man’s face. He steps forward again and moves tentatively to press his lips to Stiles’s cheek, it’s not overly intimate, but still a gesture he feels like he might be able to get away with without being pushed away.

“You will,” he says against the skin, then pulls back to head towards his car.

Stiles stares after Jackson, his entire body all but groaning in disappointment and he’s hard pressed against the jeep, reaching up to touch the handle on the door to keep himself vertical.

He’s not really sure how to react at all, he’s never experienced such a thing with Jackson before, as far as he can think back. Details are a little fuzzy, and he knows that people naturally over-romanticize how things were _previously_ , but even with that, Stiles still can’t compare it to what he’s feeling now. All the more reason why he shouldn’t fall for it, though. He has to remain vigilant, and not succumb to the other man, no matter what.

Stiles moves from the jeep finally and walks back up the porch steps and into Scott’s house, pressing his back to that door as well as he closes his eyes and tries to calm himself down.


	2. Chapter 2

Jackson re-enrolls at Beacon Hills High before Monday morning and, so far, he’s feeling pretty good about his transition back. It’s a little overwhelming with all of the scents around him, but he hones in on the most familiar and follows it, smiling when he finds Stiles.

He jogs a few steps to catch up with him and grabs his hand, interlacing their fingers as he falls into stride next to the other man, “So I was thinking, since we’re allowed to leave campus for lunch now... we should go get something to eat together.”

Stiles nearly jumps out of his skin when the hand takes his and he’s actually expecting it to be one of the girls - Lydia or Allison or something, if anyone - but when he turns and sees Jackson, and the other man starts talking, Stiles’s eyes practically bug out of his skull in shock. He’s tempted to ask if this is real life or something, but Jackson’s comment catches him even **more** off guard.

“Uhm,” Stiles mutters out as he looks down at the other man’s hand, and then he glances around at all of the other students near them, a few stopping and staring at them like he’d expected.

Stiles looks back at Jackson nervously, “Uhm, sure...”

Jackson can hear everyone, can hear the whispers about him, but he grins at Stiles anyway and says: “Great,” his thumb smoothing across Stiles’s knuckles. He was kind of afraid the other man would say ‘no’, but he’s pleasantly surprised, and if anything, having lunch together will give them a chance to catch up with one another.

Stiles stares at Jackson, his heart racing as he feels the thumb brush his skin. He feels like there’s a goddamn softball shoved down his throat as he tries to ignore the people around him. It doesn’t bother him, of course, but he’s waiting for some kind of reaction from Jackson, or a realization that what he’s doing is a little weird.

Stiles’s eyebrows narrow and he wets his lips, “When I was trying to prove to you that werewolves existed, without showing you Scott actually changing, what examples of weird behavior did I use to try and convince you?”

Jackson’s grin falters a little bit and he stares back at Stiles, trying to figure out why he’s bringing it up, “Well, you told me Scott didn’t need his inhaler anymore, and that he was the one who bashed my old locker in. That’s all I can really think of, why do you ask?”

“I’m asking the questions here, _Frisket_ ,” Stiles responds, ignoring Jackson’s inquiry, “What’s our preferred topping on pizza?” he stares into the other man’s eyes, the hand holding Jackson’s squeezing a little harder as he waits.

Jackson stops walking, but he keeps Stiles’s hand firmly in his and chuckles, “Um,” he purses his lips thoughtfully, “We don’t really have a ‘joint’ preferred topping. I like ham and pineapple and you like bacon, I don’t really understand why you’re asking. Did you wanna go and get pizza for lunch or something?”

Stiles continues to pointedly ignore both the people around them and the questions Jackson keeps asking. He’s intent to see the other man slip up in some way, so he throws the best one he’s got out there, just incase Jackson’s still not himself.

Stiles lowers his voice, brows drawn tight in concentration as he watches the other man, “How did my mom die?”

Jackson’s starting to understand why Stiles is hitting him with the twenty-one questions, it’s because the other man doesn’t believe it’s actually him, what with his different behavior and all, “Stiles,” he sighs and shakes his head a little, “Is that some kind of trick question or something? You’ve never told me how she passed.”

“I’m trying to make sure you’re not like some freaky skinwalker or shapeshifter or something, okay? Give me a break,” Stiles smiles sheepishly, “Alan said other creatures were gonna start showing up in Beacon Hills, I have to be careful. F. Y. I., you’re acting seriously weird.”

“I’m not acting weird, I’m acting different,” Jackson corrects him, eyes flitting down to Stiles’s mouth momentarily, “I told you, I went to London for personal growth - and this is me exhibiting that growth.”

“Yeah, in front of the entire school body, incase you didn’t notice,” Stiles responds, blushing as he sees the other man look down a little, “I’m just making sure you’re you. I... it’s weird having you back, it’s even weirder having you back and having you ask me to lunch and take my hand in public. So I figure I should probably cover all my bases before allowing myself to change my perception.”

“Bad weird or good weird?” Jackson asks and smirks at the way Stiles’s cheeks flush, he’s missed that, “Because I’d like to think this is an improvement.” A drastic improvement, going from not wanting anyone to know about them, to flaunting it in front of everyone.

“Really effectively good weird,” Stiles admits, because Jackson would probably be able to tell he’s lying, even though his heart is already racing, “I mean, I kinda don’t _want_ it to be a good weird, but I guess that’s what it is. I like it.”

Jackson ignores the fact that Stiles says he doesn’t want it to be a good weird and tries not to think too much into it, “Good, so are you done hammering me with questions now, or?...” he narrows his eyes, smirk still set in place, “Because I’d kinda like to walk you to class before the tardy bell rings.”

Stiles raises both brows and nods, “Oh, uh, sure,” he says before squeezing Jackson’s hand, he hates that the other man is getting back into him without even fucking trying, but it’s not like he can stop Jackson. The actual thought of stopping him is kind of upsetting. He feels good just to be around, and Stiles is about eighty percent sure that that’s the old rivalry lust thing trying to kick back in, but it’s seriously hard to resist.

Jackson understands the hesitance Stiles is exhibiting, but so long as he’s consistent enough, it should eventually wane, as soon as Stiles realizes he’s not the same anymore. He squeezes the other man’s hand back and pulls him closer as he leads the way, side glancing at Stiles and just soaking in his presence. It feels unreal to actually be back, to hold his hand and to see how much he’s changed physically, but it’s nice, and he can’t really imagine anywhere else he’d rather be.

“I can’t say you’ve ever walked me to class before, even when we were like... well, because it was under cover or whatever, but even then,” Stiles stares at Jackson as he all but melts against the werewolf, trying to be as close as possible without being too obvious about it, “It’s nice.” **Way** too nice, Stiles kind of hates that about it. Jackson just looks and feels completely different than before, more confident, more happy-

Stiles’s eyes widen as he stares at the other man, because, even though they aren’t together or anything, and Jackson’s clearly trying to get back together, he still seems happier than Stiles has ever really seen him.

Jackson catches Stiles looking at him with wide eyes and his brows narrow in confusion as he comes to a stop just next to Stiles’s classroom door, “A lot of what I did back then wasn’t fair to you,” he says, “I was kinda selfish, I took your understanding about my situation and abused it, and I shouldn’t have. I made everything about me and I didn’t really care about what you wanted.”

He smiles and steps closer to press a kiss to Stiles’s cheek as a plethora of gasps erupt around them, “Things are gonna be different,” he says surely, “Meet me at my car for lunch?”

Stiles’s eyes widen even more and he blinks in shock as Jackson kisses him, it’s just the cheek, but he might as well have blown Stiles or something for the effect it has on the people around them, and Stiles himself. He nods and feels the blush heat his cheeks, his neck, and probably halfway down his chest before everything below the neck loses complete feeling.

“Yeah, totally, lunch,” Stiles mumbles and backs away, moving to the door, “S-see you then.” He’s pretty sure he’s just pissed himself or something, lost all sorts of control of bodily functions.

His back hits the side of the door and he turns around finally, ducking into the classroom as fast as he can.

* * *

Stiles sits across from Jackson, glancing tentatively around the tables before sliding a little more in his booth as he sips his coke, “So,” he says slowly, grabbing a frie and chewing on it as he clears his throat, “How, uh... how was London?”

“It was good,” Jackson says honestly and grabs his soda, settling the straw between his lips to take a drink, “A lot different, but I think it was what I needed. And the pack I got involved with was uh... they were accepting.”

He sits his cup back down and rests his forearms on the table, smiling as he looks at Stiles, “How’ve you been, aside from what I’ve been told?”

“Uh... I don’t really know what you’ve been told,” Stiles responds, shrugging, “But, I mean, I guess I’ve been okay, sure. Besides for like... my dad getting kidnapped, crashing my jeep, temporarily dying, becoming the bad guy, losing my darkness, gaining it back shortly after...

“Solving murder mysteries and whatnot, I dunno what you know about, but yeah, I guess I’m okay.” It’s probably the blindest lie he’s ever said, but it’s not like he can explain what he’s went through internally.

Jackson watches Stiles’s face carefully and nibbles on his bottom lip, “Lydia told me about the repercussions of what you, Scott and Derek did.” And it worries him, because he isn’t sure if Stiles will actually tell him if something is wrong or not, “Are you sure you’re okay? Nothing unusual been happening?”

“Not yet,” Stiles admits, glancing around the room again, “I mean, I can feel it, just like last time. But it’s not that different from then, or from when I lost my mom, just this kind of heavy weight, dooming sort of feeling. Almost like the ground is gonna fall out from under you, or that you’ll just start suffocating at any moment. It’s about three times worse than a panic attack, only all the time. But other than that, nothing really unusual.”

Jackson nods, because he doesn’t know what he could say to possibly console Stiles. It’s a thing that happened and he can’t go back in time, can’t reverse things for the other man, “And there’s no way to stop it? I mean, what all has Deaton told you guys about it? Will it get worse over time?”

“Absolutely no clue, the guy was fucking cryptic as Hell explaining it to us the first time around, which just kinda went away with the Nogitsune.” Stiles says as he starts eating his burger, “Just something about having a darkness and carrying it with us for the rest of our lives, I dunno. It was seriously that vague, I don’t know if that means it’ll get worse this time, but I’m just... not looking forward to it in the slightest.”

“Yeah, no doubt,” Jackson nods and picks his food up, even though he’s not really hungry, “But if anything changes, don’t hesitate to tell someone, okay?” he can’t really help being generally worried about Stiles, “You can even tell me.”

Stiles grins and nods silently, looking down at his food and shrugging, “Er, sure, thanks for... that, I guess. So tell me more about you, about being a werewolf and stuff. You kinda left right after the whole thing.”

“What do you wanna know?” Jackson asks and takes a bite of his burger finally, “Things specific to me, I imagine, considering you’ve been in the midst of this whole werewolf thing for a while.” He smiles wide then and clears his throat, “Speaking of, I don’t think you’ve really ever had the chance to say ‘I told you so’. So if you wanna rub it in or something, I’d be okay with that.”

Stiles looks down at his drink and shakes his head, “Well despite being around them all the time, they don’t really disclose much information, even Scott doesn’t say much, I’m pretty sure he told Allison, before, and then just assumed I knew after that, but it’s cool. I mean, I think I get the gist, but yeah, I’m more concerned with you and what... happened to you, because clearly a _lot’s_ changed.”

“Well,” Jackson shrugs, because he doesn’t know exactly what all Stiles wants to hear, “When I realized everything I’d done, I just-I wish I would’ve listened to you, back when you guys had me locked up in that truck you stole.”

He sits his burger back down, “Anyway, it just-it ate away at me and I guess one of the cons of being a werewolf is that you feel everything just a little bit more, everything is intensified, emotions specifically. So there was the grief I was feeling over everything I did while I was the kanima, and then there was everything I still felt for you and it was just-it was so fucking overwhelming.

“I just needed to get away, so I left. The alpha that took me in helped me a lot, helped me channel everything I was feeling, helped me grow as a person and as a werewolf.”

Stiles nods as he listens, clearing through his food in record time and he smiles slightly once the other man is done talking, “So you left them to come back here,” he says slowly, kind of confused, “I mean, if they were really good with you, why would you leave? I get that you lived here first, and that the plan was to come back, but why would you wanna leave after all the good they provided you with? Why not just move to London? It’s not like Beacon Hills has really done you any favors.”

Jackson chuckles, because to him, the answer to Stiles’s question is so painfully obvious it’s not even funny, but he sobers up quick enough and meets the other man’s eyes sincerely, “They were good to me and I’ll always be grateful to them for it, and I’m sure they know that. But I couldn’t stay there, not permanently, not when my heart was back here.”

Stiles frowns and that was **so** not the answer he was hoping for, it’s hard enough to behave himself around Jackson as is, but when he goes saying things like that-or maybe Stiles is reading into it wrong. Yes, that has to be the case, he’s just heard what his dick _wants_ to hear, that’s not actually how it is.

“Oh,” Stiles glances down at his watch, “We-we should probably get back - I mean, lunch took a while just getting to us, you know.”

“Yeah, sure,” Jackson nods and takes Stiles’s tray as well as his own, smiling faintly, “Come on.” He jerks his head towards the exit and leads the way, only stopping to throw their trash away and to put the trays on top of the trash cans. It wasn’t a lot of time together, but he’s glad that Stiles at least agreed to have lunch with him.

Stiles follows silently, putting his hands in his pockets as he tries to mull over what to do next. If Jackson **is** coming onto him, which that’s what it seems like, then chances are he probably won’t be prepared in any way to resist the other man. He’s not handling it well as is, all he wants to do is grab Jackson and kiss him, and then rip off his clothes and fuck him for the next month and a half or whatever.

“So you didn’t like... date... anyone in London?” Stiles asks suddenly, practically kicking himself in the knee the moment the words come out.

Jackson stops just short of reaching the car and turns to raise a brow at Stiles, “Uh, no,” he shakes his head, “No dating, no hook ups. What about you? Lydia told me about the kiss, if you can even consider it as such.”

“Well, I was having a panic attack,” Stiles logics, staring at Jackson and smiling sheepishly, “She said she’d read somewhere that it was good for a person having one, but I looked it up afterwards and it’s actually really **not** , but I guess it’s good I’ve been there before.

“Oh, but no, no I haven’t had like... I haven’t been with anyone else, god no, of course not.”

Jackson would ask why not, but he figures that Stiles’s response would be akin to his own if the other man were to ask him, so he doesn’t pry. He nods slowly and reaches into his pocket for his car keys, hitting the little button to unlock the car doors, “Cool,” he says awkwardly before climbing into the vehicle. It is pleasing, though, to know that Stiles hasn’t been with anyone else other than him.

Stiles climbs into the passenger’s side seat and looks at Jackson, “I’m glad you went to London, I mean, I know it was a whole shit reason why you went and everything, but I think it was good for you. It’s pretty obvious that it was good for you. But I... I missed you. It wasn’t the same without you, even though we didn’t talk much during the whole Kanima thing, you not being there at all just didn’t feel right.”

Jackson’s hand stills as he’s about to put the keys into the ignition and he looks at Stiles, because he wasn’t expecting the other man to say any of that, “I missed you too, still kinda do if I’m being honest.” He misses the closeness, being able to just plant one on Stiles if he feels the urge, “And I get what you mean, pretty sure my subconscious supplied me with enough dreams about you to actually make the distance somewhat bearable.”

“Jackson,” Stiles swallows, his brows drawing in tight as he looks down at his hands and shakes his head, “Look, I know you’re-I mean, I don’t, I don’t really know, but I-I kind of... do. Look, this can’t-” he motions between them, looking at the other man guiltily, “I can’t do this like a relationship thing. Breaking up with you last time was hard enough, and it practically killed me to do it, but I stand by my reasoning. I was right, and I’m still right, I-we can’t, this thing... I can’t, I can just... be a friend, that’s all.”

Jackson swallows down the lump in his throat, looks away from Stiles and finally starts the car, unsure of even what to say as he pulls out of the parking place. They weren’t good together then, and they weren’t good for one another, but things change and things **have** changed, it’s just going to take a while for Stiles to see that. He’s not going to give up just because the other man seems adamant about it not happening, you don’t give up on someone you love.

“I know that’s not what you wanna hear, but that’s how it is,” Stiles looks away nervously, “I told myself like fifty times before I broke up with you that this couldn’t happen again. It’d be a huge mistake, and it’s actually kinda not fair, you coming back from London all... all whatever you are. I probably could’ve gotten over you, given time, and then you come back and you’re like... I think you’re pursuing me, but I’m not really sure.”

“The things you’re saying are kinda giving me whiplash, Stiles,” Jackson’s fists tighten on the steering wheel, “You tell me it’s not the same without me here, then you act like you’re... disappointed I actually came back. I’m not even sure what to think right now, and yeah, I am pursuing you, because I know you’re wrong. You and me? It can work, you’re just not willing to give it a chance.”

“You gave me whiplash first,” Stiles responds nervously.

“This isn’t easy, okay? I don’t think you’re fully appreciating how much strength it took to break up with you. I was having a panic attack the entire time I was doing it; I could barely breathe. I don’t get why you’re pushing for this at all. We fucked, and then we attempted to have a relationship for a moment, and it went pretty badly. We couldn’t see eye to eye, it just-it didn’t work out.

“We’re just two dudes that... we don’t date, we fuck, and it’s heated and it’s good and that’s it. Because if we’re not doing that, then we’re awkward and we’re too different. Why are you even bothering to have a relationship with me at all? Because I’m also into guys? Because there are bars and clubs where that’s also a thing, and ninety percent of them are five hundred times easier than me. I don’t get it,” he looks at Jackson finally, “Did you even try to move on, or did you just stay fixated on the fact that you know you’re safe having sex with me?”

“You know how I feel about you, why would you even ask me that?” Jackson asks, but he’s keeping his temper in check, “And have I really even tried getting into your pants since I’ve been back?

“It’s not all about sex, Stiles, contrary to what you think. The relationship we had was fleeting, because I was too scared to open up to you and you didn’t give it a chance, you ended it instead of trying to work things out. It can be more, I don’t understand how you’re not seeing that. We just successfully had lunch together, had a nice conversation, but you’re still adamant about us not working.”

Stiles sighs in annoyance and looks out the window, covering his mouth in frustration for a moment as he shakes his head, “You have the thickest fucking skull, I swear. You think I’m being stubborn by refusing to try and make this work, have you ever thought that maybe **you** were the stubborn one? Just because we love each other doesn’t mean we should be together. It doesn’t mean we’re meant to be, or that we’re good for each other, either. It’s not that easy.”

“First of all, the insults aren’t really necessary, I don’t know why you’re getting so defensive,” Jackson parks the car and eyes a few students walking to their classes, “Second of all, I’m not denying I was stubborn, because I was, but so were you, and you still are.”

He turns the car off and turns in his seat a little to look at Stiles, expression pensive, “Do you want me to move on?” he asks seriously, “Do you want me to give up on you?”

Stiles crosses his arms and keeps his eyes directed elsewhere, “It’s not really fair of you to ask something like that. That’s not the point, Jackson. The point is that I broke up with you already and I shouldn’t have to go through this again. Yes, I miss you; yes, I love you; and yeah, I’m glad to have you here. But I don’t understand why you have to be like this.

“Why can’t it just be... platonic? Why does it have to be all or nothing? Why can’t you just accept that what we had before won’t and **can’t** happen again? Is it really that bad that you have to leave the country or go off and get yourself bitten when I cut things off?”

“If you’re not going to answer my questions, then why should I answer yours?” Jackson raises a brow, then huffs after a moment and gets out of the car.

He can keep things platonic between them, but he refuses to give up on Stiles when the best excuse he has to why things can’t happen between them is just ‘because they can’t’. The other excuses about it just being lust and fucking between them is bullshit, and them having lunch together proved that much - it’s not like it’s the first time they’ve just hung out.


	3. Chapter 3

Stiles is sitting in the back of art class, flipping through magazines and looking for a full body model to draw. He doesn’t have a partner for the assignment and he offered to be the odd one out (they’ve always been short a student). He works best alone anyway, and it’s not like the class matters. It’s an easy ‘A’, for effort.

He’s pretty much the first in class, spaced out as he continues flipping through. Everyone else has already been on it for a couple of days, but he can’t seem to find an image, a model, inspiring enough to draw.

He looks up when he hears their teacher, Mr. Link, telling someone to ‘sit back in the back there with Stiles-’

“Stiles, raise your hand!”

Stiles does so, stopping dead with his hand halfway raised when he sees Jackson starting down the middle of the room where the desks are separated to either side, _fuck_.

Jackson walks to the back of the classroom slowly and fights the grin threatening to spread his mouth wide, then he takes his seat and looks at Stiles, “Hey there,” he says tentatively.

Stiles closes his magazine and pushes it away as he stares at Jackson. The large table they're at that normally seats about six students is completely empty besides for them, considering most veered away from him during the first half of the year, so it’s a little strange to have someone sitting by him.

“Hey,” he responds as the teacher sits at the front of the room and the rest of the students start working on their model drawings, one posing as the other attempts to sketch them on paper, “So... we’re in a class together.”

“That we are,” Jackson says in response to Stiles’s amusingly obvious statement and his resolve to keep a straight face crumbles a little, the corner of his mouth twisting up as he stares at the other man, “Care to fill me in on what we’re supposed to be doing?” he glances around then, and the answer is kind of obvious, but he’s trying to make small talk.

“We’ve gotta draw one another,” Stiles explains, grabbing a couple large pieces of paper from the center of the table and handing one to Jackson, as well as a pencil and an eraser, “We also happen to be a few days behind, but Link doesn’t really seem to care too much about uh... fucking around.”

“I can’t draw for shit,” Jackson points out, but he takes the paper, pencil and eraser anyway, brows raised as he looks at Stiles, “Are we supposed to take turns or just... go for it at the same time?” he has to admit, though, even though he’s not particularly talented with art, Stiles **is** an appealing subject.

“Uh, one of us poses each day, and you swap the next,” Stiles glances pointedly at the other students to show Jackson, “I’m pretty horrible at drawing too, but this is like the easiest class and I needed a filler.

“But Link grades you on effort, so as long as you don’t draw a stick figure, and you actually put forth effort, you get an ‘A’. It doesn’t even matter if you suck,” to him, though, it just sounds like every other class - boring, repetitive, and a teacher that doesn’t really do much. On the upside, the guy **does** care about the attempts at art, so maybe that’s nice.

“Okay, so... who’s posing first, you or me?” Jackson asks with an amused grin, tapping his pencil against the paper as he wets his lips.

Stiles sighs and stands up, “I guess I will,” he says, moving around his seat to the counter against the back wall, just a couple steps away, and he leans against it. This is another one of those ‘last things’ he wanted happening, but maybe it’ll show Jackson that it doesn’t have to be serious between them, that they can just be friends.

Jackson actually expects Stiles to tell him that he can, so when the other man volunteers, he’s taken slightly by surprise. Nodding, he situates himself on his chair more comfortably and looks at Stiles, actually giving himself a chance to catalog everything about the other man, looking at him in a way he’s never really done before.

He’s always really liked the color of Stiles’s eyes, how different they are from his own, but looking at the other man now, even from the slight distance, it’s kind of breathtaking just how beautiful he is - the long lashes sweeping down against his cheeks each time he blinks; his cute, upturned nose; his mouth and that ridiculous cupid’s bow; not to mention the little constellation of moles scattering across his skin, highlighting how perfectly pale he is.

Jackson smiles and finally touches the lead to the paper, knowing that whatever he draws, it won’t even come close to the real thing.

Stiles stands patiently, a little nervous as Jackson stares at him and he tries not to think too much into it. It’s still a little unsettling when the werewolf looks at him like that, though, and it kind of makes Stiles want to look down and check that he’s not pissing his pants or something, “So,” he says as he stands there, not really moving other than his mouth, “If you suck at art, why take art class?”

“It’s like halfway through the school year and all of the other classes were taken,” Jackson tells him distractedly, glancing back up at Stiles before looking back down at his paper as he traces a general shape of the other man’s face, “So they just threw me in here.” He’s definitely not complaining, though, not if he gets to be paired up with Stiles.

“Ah, cause I was gonna say, you choosing this as an elective willingly seems highly unlikely,” Stiles says as he glances at the other man, smiling slightly as he watches Jackson, “You’re lucky you weren’t here for the first half of the year, we had to draw sports gear and stuff. People are so much easier to draw.”

“Speak for yourself, I’m pretty sure you’re just gonna look like an extremely detailed stick figure by the time I’m done with you,” Jackson chuckles and looks back up at Stiles, smile fading somewhat as his eyes flicker up to the mess of hair sitting atop of the other man’s head, “So what’s up with the hair? Get tired of the buzz cut or something?”

Stiles shrugs and blushes, “I dunno, I just needed to change a few things, I guess.”

He reaches up mindlessly to scratch at the hair brushing the back of his neck, “Does it not look good? I mean, I did it on my own, I didn’t think it looked too bad. Most people don’t really seem to notice.” That’s probably just because they’re all use to ignoring him, though.

“No, it definitely looks good,” Jackson reassures him as his hand stills against the paper, “But I always kinda thought the buzz cut looked good too, so,” he shrugs, and looks back down to the paper. Naturally, he could go on about Stiles’s hair, but he’s trying to keep things relatively platonic for the time being.

“It was definitely easier to maintain, I’ve been rethinking the whole growing out my hair thing for a while now, though,” Stiles says as he puts his hand down on the counter once more, “I dunno, some times it doesn’t really feel like me, you know?”

“Yeah,” Jackson nods as he scrawls against the paper, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, it **does** look really good.” It adds an alarming amount to the other man’s sex appeal, that’s for sure, “But you don’t really look like _you_. Does that make any sense?” Jackson chuckles again and looks up at Stiles, “Maybe it’s just because I wasn’t around to watch it grow out, I’m just not used to it.”

Stiles chuckles and nods as well, “Yeah, I get that, I’ve kinda been using the buzz cut thing for years now, so changing over to this is a little strange.”

He never really paid attention to his hair before that, buzzing it all off was just the easiest thing to do after his mom died, considering she was the one that took care of it and brushed it when he was younger. Shaving it all off avoided that whole... Thing.

“No doubt,” Jackson says and looks Stiles over once more just for good measure before looking back down to his paper, hand moving in short, swift movements. This is a new experience for him, because he’s never actually sat down and attempted drawing **anything** , much less a real person.

“I don’t think I anticipated it being such a pain in the ass to deal with,” Stiles admits and stares at the expression on the other man’s face, “I initially just thought it’d be like... grow hair out, cut hair, and then done. I just wanted to change something, not like Scott with the whole tattoo thing, needles kind of freak me out.”

“Yeah, I can’t really see you getting a tattoo,” Jackson says and smiles as he draws, “I got one while I was in London,” he admits, wondering if Stiles even cares, but he doesn’t look up to gauge the other man’s reaction.

Stiles raises his brows in surprise and he can’t imagine Jackson actually having something on that flawless skin of his, he can’t help but ask: “Really? What is it? ... _Where_ is it?”

“Yeah, really,” Jackson nods and looks up at Stiles seriously as he shrugs and touches his left bicep, “It’s not big or anything, just a small Ouroboros, can’t even see it if I have my arm down.” He’s wearing long sleeves, otherwise he might show the other man.

Stiles nods and grins, “Nice, makes sense, with the whole recreating thing,” he can see something simple like that, and it **does** make sense, he doesn’t really get what’s with werewolves and getting tattoos, but apparently it’s a thing considering three **very** different men now have tattoos on their bodies, “Must be nice having that strength and not having it control you,” he mutters mindlessly.

“Basically, yeah,” Jackson agrees, “Kinda nice to know I’m in control of my actions for once,” he says distractedly and erases a spot on the paper where he messed up. Of course Stiles would know what an Ouroboros is, he’s always kind of been a little on the nerdy side.

“Did you get much to do in London? I mean, considering here we were like fighting a super-powered witch woman druid thing, did you get much of that?” Stiles asks curiously. In Beacon Hills it’s almost been constant, with baddies coming in after a short break, he kind of can't imagine it differently, "Did you get like an opportunity to really use your strength?"

“Um,” Jackson narrows his brows as he thinks about everything he did in London, “There were a lot of really defiant Omegas we had to handle, and there was a witch. Other than that, though, things were relatively normal.” He shrugs and glances at Stiles, “Neither of which really required a ton of strength on my part.”

“That’s not too bad, at least you got to stretch your legs a bit,” Stiles looks over Jackson’s body, trying to imagine him all wolfed out and with those glowing blue eyes, “It’s a lot better than the way Scott and the other betas have been every time they’ve been bitten, thrown neck deep into the fight of their lives. It’ll probably pick up soon enough, then you’ll wonder why you came back at all.”

“Nah,” Jackson shakes his head and smiles, because coming back isn’t something he’ll ever regret, “So, you’re not like... gonna hit me when you see how bad this is, are you?” he asks and chuckles, eyes widening momentarily, “Because it’s pretty bad, I should probably be ashamed.”

Stiles chuckles and shakes his head, “Dude, if you think that’s bad, wait until I take my revenge and try to draw you next time, trust me, it’ll be just as bad if not worse.”

“That makes me feel marginally better, I think,” Jackson’s hand stills against the paper and he looks up when the bell rings, and he shouldn’t be as disappointed as he is that the class is over for today, but he is, because it’s not like he can really pull excuses out of his ass to spend time with the other man.

Stiles moves from the counter to grab his things and he puts his own large sheet of paper back in the pile, “Initial yours and hand it in, he’ll hold onto it for now,” Stiles says as the others start doing it, “So, uh, I know you’re not in Lacrosse, but is there any chance you wanna go out and watch us practice?”

Jackson scribbles his initials and looks up at Stiles for a moment, mouth slightly ajar and he nods, “Yeah, definitely,” he says and stands. Grabbing his paper and his books, Jackson smiles a little to himself, because **now** he has an excuse and it was offered by Stiles himself, “It’s not like I have anything better to do.”

Stiles didn’t initially mean to ask Jackson to come out to practice, the question just kind of came out on it’s own, but he doesn’t bother taking it back when the werewolf agrees and he hates that it makes him smile in return. Stiles walks with him to the front of the room to turn his work in, and then outside as they walk to the locker rooms.

“I guess being all wolf-y and being able to pummel rocks into dust makes up for not having sports as an outlet, huh?”

“Pretty much,” Jackson nods as he walks next to Stiles, “In general, though, I’m not as angry as I used to be. The bite kind of... leveled me out, I guess. I mean, I still get mad, but who doesn’t? I just don’t feel the uncontrollable urge to take it out on other people anymore.”

“Kanima probably kinda messed that up as well,” Stiles says, watching Jackson as they move through the crowd of people, “Spoils the mood, right? You think of being angry and then there’s that thing and it’s like... why bother? It was pretty shitty just watching from the sidelines, I can’t imagine how bad it was for you. But you came out of it all the better, so who really cares? All the people involved were sketchy at best, anyway.”

“Not all of them, Stiles,” Jackson frowns and shakes his head, “They didn’t really deserve what I did to them.” He doesn’t remember a lot of it, most of the time he blacked out and came to with blood on his hands. Afterwards, though, is when everyone told him what he’d done.

“So,” he attempts to change the subject, “Are you first line now or is that cute ass of yours still warming the bench?”

“Uh,” Stiles blushes furiously and looks away, grinning to himself as he glances around to avoid looking at Jackson, “I’m first line still, no bench for me. I’ll have you know, I’ve actually gotten really good. I also join fights against alphas, I’m not completely useless anymore. I can’t really do much against giant werewolves that merge bodies, but I **have** been known to occasionally save lives.”

“Giant werewolves that merge bodies?” Jackson asks incredulously and smirks when he sees the blush creeping up Stiles’s neck, “I knew things were bad around here, but wow.” He feels like Lydia possibly mentioned something about that, about twins or something. Maybe Stiles is talking about the twins Scott told him about, it’s not like he’s really had to chance to meet all of his new pack members yet.

“Yeah, they form like this super Hulk-wolf and get **huge** ,” Stiles explains, “I smashed a bat against the back of his head, and let me tell you, he wasn’t what gave; that poor bat didn’t stand a chance. He’s in the pack now, well-I mean, they are, the twins, one is dating Lydia and the other is dating Danny.”

“Danny’s dating a werewolf?” Jackson asks and then nods, “Nice, good for him. I don’t think Lydia said anything about being in a relationship, but then again that’s not really a topic we discuss much of.”

He stops just outside the locker room door and grabs it, opening it for Stiles, “Go ahead, I’ll meet you guys outside.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sry about the delay in updates, I've been having rly bad back pains the last week.


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles sits on the cushion next to Jackson, trying to maintain a reasonable distance as they watch Pacific Rim - a movie he managed to convince the other man to see with him (even though Stiles saw it about sixteen times just in theaters).

They’ve been able to be friendly so far, but Stiles knows he’s getting to the point where ‘friendly’ seriously isn’t enough. He’s been the one inching closer mindlessly, the heat of the other man’s body seeping into him and Stiles glances over, smiling to himself as Jackson watches the movie.

He’s definitely gotten to see a different side of the other man, one he didn’t think was humanly possible without a **lot** of therapy and time, but clearly the change over to werewolf has had a positive effect. Stiles has been steadily starting to wonder if keeping them at a distance like this is even justifiable anymore.

Jackson is into the movie as much as possible, it’s definitely good, but he can feel Stiles’s gaze on him every so often and he can’t help but smile as he puts a piece of popcorn in his mouth.

The fact that all of this was Stiles’s idea gives him hope, makes him think that the other man wants to be around him just as much as he wants to be around Stiles. Sure, friends hang out, but friends don’t consistently scoot closer and stare the way Stiles keeps doing.

“Why do you keep looking at me?” he chuckles softly and finally turns his head to look at Stiles, picking a piece of popcorn from the bowl and tossing it at the other man’s face, “You’re supposed to be watching the movie, dork.”

Stiles catches the popcorn in his mouth and raises a brow as he eats it and settles back, “Well I’ve seen the movie plenty of times, I could recite it. I’m watching you, you’re watching the movie - you haven’t **seen** the movie.”

It seems perfectly logical to him, of course, even though he knows he seriously shouldn’t be staring at the other man. But he likes that feeling that Jackson keeps causing inside of him - that twisting, nervous, anxious urge to pee or whatever - he’s never felt that before, not with Lydia, not even the last time him and Jackson were together.

“So, you’re watching me watch the movie,” Jackson says slowly, eyes dropping down to Stiles’s mouth for a moment, “Yeah, that makes sense,” he says dryly, though he’s amused. “Though, if you’ve seen the movie, then why didn’t you pick something we both haven’t seen?” he asks curiously and pulls both of his legs up onto the couch, legs crossed with his feet under his thighs.

“Because the first time I watched this movie I kept thinking you’d like it,” Stiles admits, “I mean, you like it right? You seem to be liking it, I think.” It’s also a little difficult to find things that Stiles **hasn’t** seen, he kind of has plenty of time to waste watching shows and movies.

“Yeah, I like it,” Jackson confirms and offers the bowl of popcorn, unsure if he should comment on the fact that Stiles had been thinking about him. He decides against it, naturally, things have been going too well to go and fuck them up now.

Stiles takes the popcorn and sets it aside, grabbing one more and eating it as he scoots a little closer and turns back to the screen, staring at it silently as he smiles to himself. They’re only about halfway through the movie, but it’s pleasing to know that Jackson is enjoying himself, considering Stiles picked out the movie specifically - it’s only the best way to relieve stress besides for pvp in _WoW_.

Jackson watches Stiles’s face for a moment and then turns his attention back to the television as well, the corner of his mouth twitching up subtly because of Stiles’s not so subtle movements to get closer. He’s definitely okay with it, though, the general closeness puts him at ease. If he had his way, they’d be even closer, but he stays still and watches the movie.

Stiles only manages to sit there, looking away, for the next ten minutes before he turns and starts watching Jackson again, his eyes running over the other man’s face; his beautiful blue eyes, his brows and eyelashes, his soft lips. He can’t stop thinking of how Jackson was on the first day, all intense and scenting Stiles. It’s exciting just thinking about it and how much he wants more of it, how he wants to experience that side of the other man on a more personal level.

Around the part where Newt successfully manages to drift with the Kaiju brain, Jackson feels Stiles’s eyes back on him again and the other man’s scent has shifted a little bit. The aroma is sharper, headier, and Jackson can’t stop the way his eyes flash when he inhales. It’s close to the way Stiles had smelled when Jackson had him pinned to the jeep. Maybe not as strong, but the scent is similar and it makes the wolf in him keen with want.

Stiles watches the way the werewolf’s eyes shift and his whole body heats just from that, his fingers itching to touch him. He moves then, grabbing Jackson’s jaw and turning it as he presses their lips together. He lifts up, mouth opening as his tongue runs over the werewolf’s lips and Stiles moves quickly, climbing into the other man’s lap as he runs his free hand down the front of Jackson’s shirt and moans against his mouth.

It all kind of happens in a blur, one moment Jackson’s watching the movie, then the next he’s got a lap full of Stiles. He doesn’t hesitate, though, as he grabs the other man’s hips roughly and kisses back, tongue pressing in past Stiles’s teeth to claim his mouth. The other man tastes better than he remembers, but then again maybe it’s just his heightened senses, overwhelming him with each flick and curl of his tongue.

Groaning softly, the werewolf pulls Stiles’s hips down as he arches up and presses the hard line of his length against the other man’s ass.

“Fuck,” Stiles breathes against Jackson’s lips, his body shaking as the other man kisses back and Stiles runs his tongue along the side of Jackson’s as he rolls his hips down.

He drops his arms, sliding his hands under the hem of the werewolf’s shirt and pushing it up, palms flattening against the hard muscles of Jackson’s stomach. It’s been far too long since he’s felt anything even remotely similar to this, having Jackson under him and against him feels phenomenal after the dry spell he’s been on for the past year.

Jackson breaks the kiss, but only long enough to pull his shirt off completely, then he leans up a little and wraps his arms around the other man’s waist as he kisses him again, desperate presses of his lips against Stiles’s as he works his shirt up and off as well, fingertips pressing against Stiles’s soft skin.

He moves before he even thinks about it and twists sideways, flipping Stiles onto his back as he positions himself between the other man’s thighs, grinding down against him all in one movement. It’s never been like this between them, he’s never taken control in the slightest, but he likes it.

Stiles raises his brows and his eyes widen, he’s kind of taken aback by the other man being so assertive, but it again reminds him of how the werewolf was the day he came back. Stiles actually isn’t sure how to react to that, at first, but his dick is, and it’s almost suffocating as the goddamn thing fills and presses against the front of his jeans desperately.

He reaches down and grabs Jackson’s ass through his pants, pulling the other man down as Stiles bucks up and gasps, “Oh my god, seriously?”

“ _ **Seriously**_ ,” Jackson confirms breathlessly and dips down to mouth at Stiles’s neck, nipping at the heated flesh as he continues to roll his hips down.

The scent is stronger than before and it’s consuming him, like he can’t really think about anything else other than Stiles and getting him naked, feeling the other man’s bare thighs wrapped around his waist. Jackson suspends himself with one hand pressed to the couch cushions and his other wanders down Stiles’s chest, whimpering as his tongue lashes out against Stiles’s pulse point.

“Oh my **god** ,” Stiles repeats, all but shrieking this time and he reaches up numbly, grabbing the back of Jackson’s neck as his other hand moves between them to get at the button on the other man’s pants. He’s had Jackson be kind of forceful before, but this is something else entirely, he’s not sure if sex is the goal for the other man, but if it is... Stiles isn’t really sure who’s topping, if it gets to that point; it’s kind of always been him.

“Oh my god,” Stiles continues to mumble, “Can you look at me, again, please? Can I-can you flash your eyes again?”

Jackson nips at Stiles’s neck a little harder and pulls back to look down at him, lips parted as his eyes flash again, “You like that?” he asks, then grinds down suddenly. The werewolf pulls back then and his hands drop to the other man’s fly, working the button loose and growling in the back of his throat as he pulls the zipper down, grabbing at the denim to yank it all down Stiles’s slender hips.

Stiles nods minutely, eyes wide as he stares up at Jackson and feels like his body is going to literally melt into the cushions below him, “Yeah,” he says weakly, “I do.”

His dick is so hard at this point that he can’t think at all and he sits up as Jackson tosses aside the jeans, wrapping his arm around the werewolf’s waist and staring into his eyes as he smirks and kisses Jackson, his other hand helping to push the werewolf’s jeans down a little as well, “Really do, baby.”

Jackson shifts out of his jeans the best he can, lifting his knees to get them off and he kicks them to the floor as he kisses Stiles playfully, pulling the other man’s bottom lip between his teeth before laying him back down. He reaches up and cards his fingers through the other man’s ridiculous hair at last - something he’s been itching to do since he got back - and he tugs at it, jerking Stiles’s head back. Then he leans down and scrapes his teeth against the other man’s Adam’s apple, breathing heavily against the skin.

“Oh holy fuck,” Stiles reaches up, his hands trembling almost violently as he grabs onto Jackson’s shoulders, “Oh my God, you seriously can’t be serious.” The hand in his hair is definitely a first, Stiles’s dick is leaking against his stomach as he feels the beta’s teeth on his throat and he moans helplessly as his legs lift, feet dragging over the other man’s calves as he arches desperately.

Jackson smiles wide and snorts at Stiles’s reaction, keeping his hand in the other man’s hair for a moment as he pulls back enough to look into Stiles’s eyes, nuzzling their noses together, “You gotta tell me what you want,” he breathes.

Reaching down with his other hand, he palms at Stiles’s cock and teases the hard length through the cotton, “Do you wanna fuck me?” he asks heatedly, then dips down to nip at Stiles’s ear, “ _Or do you want me to fuck you_?”

Stiles blinks in confusion and narrows his brows as he tries to think clearly, “Uh, I honestly don’t know. I’m up for whatever you wanna do, baby. I mean, I’ve always kinda wanted you to top, but if you want me to, I could-I can definitely, **definitely** do that. You’re kinda giving me really weirdly mixed signals, and it’s uh-it’s been a while, I’m rusty.”

Jackson’s about to ask Stiles what he means by ‘mixed signals’ when he hears a car door shut just outside, head snapping up to look in the direction of the front door.

“My parents are home,” he says hurriedly, brows narrowing as he leans back off of Stiles to grab his clothes, shoving them at the other man, “Here, go to my room, hurry,” he says, then grabs Stiles’s face to kiss him quickly, “I’ll be there in a second.”

Jackson walks swiftly to the front door and locks it in order to buy himself some more time, then moves to turn the television off and frowns when he realizes he had Stiles take his clothes as well. He hurries to his bedroom, lets himself in, closing it and locking it behind him (though it’s not like his parents will actually bother him). He turns then and frowns when he notices that Stiles is now fully dressed again.

“What are you doing?” he asks tentatively as he moves to the other man, “Please don’t tell me that this was just some... heat of the moment thing for you.”

Stiles stops and looks at Jackson guiltily, “Uh,” he says nervously, glancing around the bedroom and swallowing as he shrugs, “I mean, kinda, yeah. I-I don’t know about this, Jackson, I just... it’s been a while, and maybe it’s fast or something, I dunno.”

“Okay,” Jackson nods and wets his lips, then puts his palms up, “Maybe you’re right, maybe it is all too fast,” he agrees, “But you don’t have to go, you can stay. Stay and I-I’ll behave myself... just don’t leave.”

Stiles moves to Jackson, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him in, pressing their lips together as his other hand practically claws the other man’s waist. He can’t even explain it to himself, he’s so conflicted over the entire thing that it’s practically exhausting to keep jumping back and forth.

“Not sex,” he says against the other man’s lips, “I just want this - not sex, yet, I’m not ready for that.”

“I’m okay with this,” Jackson nods frantically and kisses Stiles back, reaching up to touch the other man’s face, “More than okay with this.” It’s not really all about sex, anyway. He can appreciate this, just swapping lazy kisses and hanging out with one another, it’s better than nothing, “I can go get the movie and we can finish it in here, if you want?”

“No, don’t stop, fuck the movie,” Stiles mutters against Jackson’s lips and moves back, tongue lashing out to run over the other man’s mouth as he nearly trips backwards when he reaches the bed, “Oh my god, you feel fucking amazing, just don’t stop kissing me.”

“Okay,” Jackson utters and wraps his free arm around Stiles’s waist before laying him down, sliding up the mattress with him as they kiss. It’s not something he could ever really get tired of, the way their mouths move together and the soft, breathy sounds shared between the both of them.

Stiles moans into Jackson’s mouth and grins, one hand reaching up to cup the werewolf’s cheek as his other hand drops down, pushing under the boxers and grabbing Jackson’s right ass cheek. So it’s not really what he’d intended to do, and Stiles recognizes the fact that he’d been adamant about not doing anything **again** , but clearly Jackson’s changed, and if he doesn’t at least try this once more, than he’ll never know if it could **actually** work between them.

“Stiles,” Jackson says and his tone is both warning and desperate, his body shifting atop the other man’s.

He’s not even sure what Stiles wants at this point, but whatever the human wants, he’ll be okay with - it’s just a little confusing, not knowing what to do. He’s torn between wanting to take things further and wanting to respect Stiles’s wishes, one wrong move and he could ruin pretty much everything.

“You can touch me too, you know,” Stiles mutters as he pulls back and looks at Jackson.

“I mean, before was nice, I just-I don’t really think we should take it all of the way, just yet, you know? Especially with your family around, that’d be a little weird. But I like the whole thing, with the scenting, right? And the stuff, you know? Do you? I’m not sure if you do or not.”

“You’re kinda rambling,” Jackson says fondly, kissing the tip of Stiles’s nose, “So, I can touch you and you like when I scent you? You’ve gotta give me some limitations, babe, because I’m afraid I’m gonna fuck this up.”

He looks at the other man sincerely, then kisses him slowly, “Am I allowed to touch you all over... or just above the waist?”

“Um, no, you can touch me where ever, that’s fine,” Stiles responds, smiling at the nickname and running his hands up Jackson’s torso, “I mean, my only real thing is sex. I wanna do it, I do, I just feel like this all is kinda off, right? But yeah, you can touch me wherever you want.”

“Good,” Jackson says and kisses Stiles again, and again and again as his right hand drops down to the other man’s thigh, gripping it through the denim of his jeans, “Really wish you wouldn’t have gotten dressed,” he mumbles against the other man’s lips, “I wanna feel your skin.”

Stiles reaches down with both hands, unbuttoning his jeans and pushing them down before he takes off his shirt and raises his brows at Jackson, “I didn’t glue them on, though, you can always just take them off, dude.”

“Don’t dude me, _dude_ ,” Jackson grins and leans back to pull Stiles’s jeans the rest of the way off, tossing them on the floor before leaning back down to press their chests together, “So, I know I’m allowed to touch you all over with my hands... but what about with my mouth?” he asks, raising a brow, “And... am I allowed to get you off, or is that too much?”

Stiles frowns in confusion and he starts to shake his head because he doesn’t really understand the questions for a moment, “Uh, yeah, your mouth is... fine,” he says slowly, blushing and smiling sheepishly as he shrugs, “And sure, you can get me off. I mean, neither of those is really sex, it’s cool.”

Jackson’s grin turns a little mischievous, because Stiles very clearly doesn’t understand where he’s going with the questions. But that’s okay, he kind of likes having the element of surprise on his side. A year ago he wouldn’t even have considered blowing the other man, but the majority of the time he’d been in London, it was all he could think about, going over his regrets, things he never did - and putting his own selfish desires aside to please Stiles was one of the highest on the list.

He leans down and presses the tips of their noses together, “Try to be quiet,” he tells him, eyes flashing in warning as he moves down.

Jackson presses his lips to Stiles’s chest and relishes the feel of the flesh against his mouth, kissing down between the other man’s pecs as his fingertips brush teasingly over Stiles’s nipples.

“Uhm, okay?” Stiles stays laid out on his back, the hands on Jackson’s shoulders moving to touch gently around his neck and jaw. It’s strange having the other man kissing and touching his body - nice, but still very strange.

Stiles isn’t exactly sure what to do with himself, but he’s starting to think he knows where this is going. Jackson wouldn’t **actually** blow him, would he? There’s no way that’d actually be a thing that happened, the holding hands in public thing was a stretch, but actual oral sex?

“... What are you doing?”


	5. Chapter 5

Jackson smirks against Stiles’s skin and pinches the other man’s left nipple between his fingers, looking up at Stiles and he mouths further down. He traces his lips over the divots of the other man’s hips and when he moves to just beneath Stiles’s navel, he flicks his tongue out and draws it down through the other man’s happy trail, down to the waistband of his boxers.

“Touching you with my mouth,” he says plainly and curls his fingers under the fabric, then shimmies the boxers down over the human’s soft hips.

Stiles’s head spins for a moment as he sits up on his elbows and watches Jackson in shock.

He’s tempted to ask if the werewolf is sure he wants to go through with this, but Stiles figures he probably shouldn’t try questioning everything Jackson does. He’s not really sure how much of him the other man paid attention to the last time they were together, and the times before that, but Stiles knows Jackson’s never really been up close and personal with his dick.

Stiles doesn’t even know if Jackson is aware he’s uncut, which is a little upsetting and disappointing to realize, but it makes sense. The other man was very distant before, it wouldn’t really surprise him if Jackson didn’t know.

Jackson is a little nervous, especially with having Stiles watching him the way he is, but he’s not going to let it stop him.

He tosses the boxers to the floor, then settles himself back between Stiles’s legs, eyes raking over all of him; the stunned look on his face down to the way his length lays soft between his thighs.

He drops a kiss to the other man’s flaccid cock, lips parting as he kisses it again, tongue peeking out and brushing against the warm skin. The musk is driving him insane already, the scent making his mouth water uncontrollably, so he grabs the length gently and rolls the foreskin back enough to lave across the slit with his tongue.

Stiles swallows nervously, and he’s pretty sure the only reason he isn’t hard yet is because all the blood that’s supposed to be running to his dick is running to his head, neck, and shoulders. That, and the constant flipping of what he wants and doesn’t want has kind of been exhausting.

He wets his lips and lays back, staring up at the roof once more as he tries to keep quiet. He doesn’t really know how good the walls are in the other man’s house, but Stiles can get pretty loud if he’s not watching himself, maybe keeping that in check will make this last longer than like two seconds.

Jackson suckles on the tip and tightens his fingers a little around the soft shaft, then drops his nose to the other man’s pubic hair before he can stop himself. He doesn’t even try to be subtle about the way he’s breathing Stiles in, groaning as the headiness of it fills his lungs. Being a werewolf has changed him infinitely, because he knows this isn’t ‘normal’ human behavior, but he can’t bring himself to care.

Jackson nudges the base of Stiles’s cock with his nose and slowly moves to mouth up the side of it, one hand pressing the other man’s hips down against the bed.

“Oh my fucking God,” Stiles says and he squirms under Jackson as the werewolf breathes him in. He’s pretty much forced to look down the moment it starts, and he watches as Jackson scents him, Stiles’s dick filling quickly and it seriously goes from soft to hard so fast that he might be sick or something just from the drastic change in blood flow. 

Jackson’s chest swells with Stiles’s reaction and he smiles as he grabs the shaft more firmly now, testing the hardness of it as he glides his fist up, catching the foreskin to pull it down a little on his down-stroke. He keeps his eyes locked with Stiles’s as he wraps his lips around the plush cap, his own eyes flashing the second he tastes a small droplet of pre-come and he sinks his mouth down onto the girth suddenly, wanting more.

Stiles groans as he watches Jackson and he lets out a shaky, uneven breath, dick throbbing against Jackson’s lips as the werewolf’s eyes change quickly. He stares as Jackson takes him up and Stiles is about a hundred percent sure he’s gonna blow his load and it’s going to be both fast and embarrassing. He’s never received a blow job before, let alone _watched_ it happen, or had it given by Jackson, of all people. Stiles isn’t sure how he’s expected to keep quiet through this.

Jackson responds to Stiles’s groan with one of his own, muffled from having the other man’s dick down his throat and he can’t help but feel a little smug, because he can smell how close Stiles is already just from this. He can’t take Stiles down to the hilt, though, so he makes up for it by jacking the shaft as he sucks, his own length hard and dripping as he ruts against the bed a few times.

“Jackson, I-” Stiles blushes furiously as his body twists, back arching off the bed as he comes.

He feels his eyes water as they close instinctively, his toes curling, one hand in Jackson’s hair, the other clutching the bed sheets as his entire body shudders with the release. He hasn’t came so hard and fast in **years** , and it’s more embarrassing and humiliating than just about anything he’s ever experienced. He knew it was going to be fast, but he hadn’t really anticipated it being _that_ fast.

Stiles stares up at the roof for a moment before closing his eyes again, not wanting to look at Jackson for fear of the outcome, “Oh god, I’m sorry.”

Jackson growls his contentment when Stiles comes and he does his best to swallow it all, it’s bitter and it’ll take him a while to get used to the salty taste, but he wants to, and he doesn’t understand why Stiles is apologizing.

He pulls off and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, then makes his way back up the other man’s body to look him in the eyes, “Why are you sorry?” he asks, smiling faintly as he drops down to kiss Stiles, sharing the taste with him.

Stiles kisses back desperately, avoiding answering as much as possible as he wraps both arms around the werewolf’s neck and holds him close. Even though he came embarrassingly quickly, it’s nice to know that at least one of them handled it well. He was half anticipating some snide comment, or gagging, or something, maybe even vomit, but Jackson surprises him yet again.

He’s a little overwhelmed, himself, with how well the other man keeps taking things; the hand holding, the lack of anger, the contentment, and now a blow job (which was something Stiles had pretty much ruled out from the start of their ‘arrangement’), it’s almost overwhelming to see how much Jackson’s changed.

Jackson rests his body half on and half off of Stiles as he kisses back, reaching up to touch the other man’s arms, fingertips tracing the skin. He’s not really sure if Stiles enjoyed it or not, considering he’s electing not to answer him, but given how quickly he got the human to come, he’d say that it at least had to feel good, right?

Stiles stares into Jackson’s eyes and he smiles lazily, turning them over and pressing short, quick kisses along the other man’s face as he rubs their bodies together. His hands lift Jackson’s arms and press them to the sheets above his head as Stiles kisses along the werewolf’s biceps before he lets out a heavy breath and looks at him again.

“I love you.”

Jackson feels conflicted, because he knows without a doubt in his mind that he loves Stiles too. He’d do anything for the other man, lay down his own life if he had to, but he doesn’t want to say it back, because if he’s waited this long to say it, he kind of wants to say it at the right time \- and this isn’t it.

Saying ‘I love you’ hasn’t ever been easy for him, hence why he’s never said it and he just doesn’t want to throw the phrase around like it means nothing, because to him it kind of means everything.

Arching from the sheets a little, Jackson leans up the best he can under Stiles’s feeble restraint and kisses him softly.

It doesn’t bother Stiles that Jackson doesn’t say it back, that’s not what he was aiming for by saying it in the first place. He kisses Jackson back and lays down with the beta, resting his nose against the other man’s neck as he grins.

“It’ll last longer next time. I mean, I think it will, it should. I was just... I was excited, I can’t help it.”

“It doesn’t really matter to me,” Jackson reaches up and cards his fingers through Stiles’s hair lazily as he presses a kiss to the other man’s forehead, “I wouldn’t mind if it was like that every time, I kinda like knowing I do that to you, that I’m able to get you off so quick.”

“You know, with how many times I jack off a week, you think I’d be a bit desensitized, at least enough to last longer than a minute, even sex has always been kinda quick between us,” Stiles frowns, “It’s been like that since the start. You seriously don’t have a problem with premature ejaculation?”

“No, babe,” Jackson assures Stiles, “I would kind of like the first time we have sex again to last a little while, but I’m thinking maybe we could both... jack off beforehand to make it last longer.”

Stiles nods and runs his hand down the other man’s body, stopping when he realizes that Jackson hasn’t gotten off. He raises his brows and kisses down the werewolf’s throat, “You’re still hard,” he breathes against Jackson’s skin, “I know I said I didn’t wanna have sex, just yet, but... you wanna fuck my thighs?”

Jackson quirks a brow, because even with the amount of porn he’s watched, he still isn’t sure he understands completely what Stiles is asking, “Uh, maybe... if you show me, because I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Stiles chuckles and sits up, moving to lay on his back on the bed, “Okay, so I’m assuming you have lube, right?” he knew where Jackson hid it before, but going ahead and looking around just sounds all kinds of invasive to him.

“Yeah,” Jackson sits up and leans over to his nightstand, pulling the drawer out to grab the bottle of said lube before moving back to Stiles, “Now what?”

“Now-” Stiles reaches out, taking the lube and setting it beside him before grabbing Jackson’s hips and pulling the other man’s boxers down; helping him out of them.

He grabs the lube once more and pours some in his palm, lathering it between his hands and warming the liquid before spreading it between his thighs, “Come here,” he says as he lifts his legs, crossing them at the ankles and resting them on Jackson’s left shoulder as he reaches out with both hands once more to guide the werewolf’s hips. 

Jackson lets Stiles guide him and his eyes widen when he realizes how literal the other man had been, “Oh... you seriously meant ‘fucking your thighs’,” he says all in one breath and gasps when he pushes his length in between the other man’s legs, “Wow, okay, yeah I can-this is good.” He wraps his left arm around Stiles’s legs and grips the human’s hip with his other hand, holding him still as he rocks his hips slowly.

Stiles chuckles and nods as he situates himself more comfortably, “Not too bad, huh?” if anything, it’s a nice ease into the other man topping him at some point, almost like a good halfway point, and Stiles likes being like this, able to look up into the other man’s eyes and feel the firm movements as the werewolf rocks his hips, the dick sliding between his legs.

Stiles reaches out with his left hand, rubbing his fingers together to smear the lube left over on his palm before he settles his fingers where the head of the other man’s dick pokes through and Stiles rubs the tip teasingly before it slides back out.

“Yeah, no, it’s...” Jackson rolls his bottom lip between his teeth and groans when he feels Stiles touching him, “It’s uh-” he holds the other man’s legs tightly and stares at Stiles, head turning to the side and he kisses Stiles’s calves as he fucks in between the human’s thighs.

“I’m gonna take that as a good thing,” Stiles says as he grins wide, enjoying the expressions flitting across Jackson’s face. Clearly it’s good, he’d have to be an idiot not to understand _that_ look.

It’s not just good for the other man, though, Stiles is kind of being affected by it as well, his own dick hasn’t let up for a second, just as hard now as it was before Jackson swallowed his come. Stiles pointedly ignores it, though, he’s gotten off twice today and that’s more than enough for him.

Jackson’s almost disappointed that they’ve never done this before, because it feels amazing and the view he has of Stiles is ridiculous. Staring down at the other man like this, he kind of wants to kick himself in the ass for not willing to top sooner, he’d just gotten so comfortable back then with Stiles fucking him that he just refused to consider it. He’s glad things are different, glad he’s not so narrow minded regarding sex any more, because he wants Stiles every way he can have him.

“Yeah, yes,” he nods and his hips stutter for a moment.

Jackson breathes in sharply and narrows his brows, then rolls his hips again and he’s kind of grateful they had the discussion about premature ejaculation, because he’s close already himself.

Stiles had initially thought that suggesting intercrural sex was probably a bad idea, or that Jackson just wouldn’t be up for it, but fortunately the other man didn’t even know what he was talking about, and it seems to have not been a bad thing to offer. He’s obviously never done it himself, well, not _really_. There was one time when he was fucking Jackson that he’d paused long enough to slide his dick between the other man’s legs. Jackson probably thought it was an accident, but it really **wasn’t**.

Jackson’s pace quickens and labored breaths spill from his lips, mouth hanging open as he watches Stiles, and that’s honestly what probably does him in. His hips stutter and he grunts, shoves his length through the other man’s legs one last time and comes, eyes clenching shut as he spills his seed all over Stiles.

Stiles watches the werewolf release and he slowly relaxes his legs before bending them and removing them from Jackson’s shoulder. He reaches out for the tissues on the night stand to clean himself before sitting up on his knees and kissing the other man. They both come pretty easily, apparently, but maybe if they do this enough, it won’t be an issue.

He lays back on the bed and turns onto his stomach, grabbing one of Jackson’s pillows as his heart finally starts coming down from the crazy rate it’s been at for the last ten minutes, “We’ll have to finish Pacific Rim some other time.”

“Yeah,” Jackson agrees numbly and moves to follow Stiles, laying down half on his stomach and half on his side as he slings his arm over the other man’s back. He hasn’t felt this sated, this content, in a long while.

“Rents should be gone in the morning, we can shower together and I’ll make you breakfast,” he says drowsily, hand smoothing up and down Stiles’s spine, fingers tracing absentmindedly out across the sweated skin, “Sound good?”

Stiles grins lazily to himself and fights the urge to turn and look back at Jackson, “Is that your way of asking me to stay the night?” that wasn’t really his intent when he came over, and he’ll have to send a text to his dad, but other than that, the idea of sleeping with Jackson sounds seriously nice.

“Only if it’s working,” Jackson kisses Stiles’s shoulder and settles his leg over the other man’s, fingers mindlessly tracing out ‘I love you’ against the human’s back. It’s not something he even really thinks about, he just does it, and by the time he realizes what he scrawled out against the flesh, he figures it doesn’t matter, because it’s not like Stiles is able to decipher something like that anyway.

Stiles stills and his mouth pops open, then he turns and looks at the other man, “It’s working,” he says softly, staring into Jackson’s eyes as he leans in to kiss the werewolf, “I love you, too. And yeah, I kinda wanna stay here with you, tonight. I just gotta tell my dad, or he’ll have the cops out looking for me before eleven.”

Jackson kisses back, though his eyes stay open and are a little wide, because of **course** Stiles would be able to tell what he was spelling, “Right,” he says slowly and nods, “Well, do what you gotta do. Just, hurry up so I can use you as a body pillow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm unsure when I'll be updating this next. I have about 1,600 werds of the next chapter written from the last time me and my ex-partner werked on it together. We never planned out what would even happen next, so I'll have to wing it entirely (I'm not rly worried about this tho, as I planned out about 90% of our werk together anyway, but I at least had her to bounce ideas off of, or tell me 'no' if she didn't like something).
> 
> On top of that I've been having back pains and I've been super sick, and I have so many unfinished fics of ours to try and get to and complete before posting ANY new content. I wanna have my werks set to 100% completion rate, so that'll be... uh... a feat.
> 
> Now, as some of you may know, I've been werking on a Sterek piece fer a while now (YBMAIBS) and it's third season starts early next month, which means it will be taking up most of my attention.
> 
> I'll do my best to complete the werks I've picked back up, but be warned, they WILL take some time.
> 
> Just Bent is also ending soon, so that'll at least give me more time to focus my energy elsewhere.
> 
> Thank you all who read these notes, thank you fer understanding.
> 
> -Cammerel


	6. Chapter 6

Stiles opens his eyes the next morning and looks up from Jackson’s chest, grinning when he sees the werewolf turned onto his side, arms wrapped around Stiles and he burrows against Jackson’s pecs, kissing his skin and breathing him as he smiles slowly. He’s never slept with someone else, not really, Scott doesn’t count considering they were about eight years old the last time that happened, but this is nice.

The soft kisses against his skin is what wakes Jackson up and his eyes flutter open lazily, squinting at the sunlight beaming in, but he smiles fondly when he meets Stiles’s eyes. It’s a little surreal, so he soaks it all in while he can, palm placed possessively at Stiles’s lower back.

“I could get used to this,” he rasps sleepily and kisses the corner of the other man’s mouth.

“Me too,” Stiles says and rolls onto Jackson, his legs on either sides of the other man’s waist as he wraps his arms around Jackson’s neck and kisses him heatedly. He’s normally pretty aware when he wakes up, no matter how much, or how little sleep he’s gotten, so the fact that he’s already rock hard and pressing against Jackson’s stomach isn’t really surprising to him, “Nice way to wake up.”

“Yeah it is,” Jackson mumbles against Stiles’s lips and lets his palms slide down the other man’s sides until they’re resting lightly against his waist, “I really, really missed you while I was gone.” He feels like he’s at least made it obvious, but he says it just to make sure Stiles knows.

Stiles rolls his hips down, rubbing their dicks together and he kisses his way down Jackson’s neck, “I missed you too,” he reciprocates, moaning softly as he presses his chest to the werewolf’s and writhes atop him, “Oh my god, I’m such and idiot for trying to stop this from happening, like seriously, what the Hell was I thinking?”

“Told you you were wrong about it not working,” Jackson breathes out and a soft whimper gets caught in his throat, hands squeezing Stiles’s waist a little more firmly. He’s glad that he was at least semi-persistent, otherwise he isn’t really sure if they’d be right here, right now.

“Yeah you did,” Stiles agrees and reaches down, grabbing their dicks and jerking them off together as he bites and nips roughly around Jackson’s jaw before returning to his lips, kissing him heatedly and moaning into the werewolf’s mouth eagerly.

“Not even waiting for the shower,” Jackson chuckles breathlessly and reaches up to touch Stiles’s face, arching from the bed to chase after his lips, desperate for his taste, “So impatient...” he flicks the other man’s lips with his tongue and clenches his eyes shut, “I like it.”

Stiles shrugs and bucks his hips, his other hand reaching up to touch the werewolf’s face as Stiles pulls back and looks at him, “I can’t help it. Can-can you change?” he asks curiously, staring at the other man, “Please?”

“Change,” Jackson says numbly and narrows his brows, “You want me to-to shift?” he asks slowly, then adds: “Right now?”

It’s not like he’s entirely opposed to the idea, it just seems a little odd that Stiles wants him to shift suddenly. He obliges, though, because he can’t really imagine what else the other man meant by ‘change’. So he lets the wolf in him take over, he trained enough in London to garner control over himself like this, and his fur sprouts out along his cheeks as his canines elongate.

The shift ripples through him and he stares up at Stiles, a low growl vibrating in the back of his throat as he guides Stiles’s hips, claws barely touching the skin.

“Mmhmm,” Stiles hums out long and slow as he touches Jackson’s face, tracing his teeth with his fingers and staring at the twisted features, “I’ve never really gotten to see you shifted before.” Not to mention that it’s like seriously one of the biggest turn ons to him, but he imagines that’s pretty obvious and kind of goes without saying, “Never really seen anyone else this close up, either.”

“I’m surprised Scott hasn’t shown you,” Jackson says and it almost sounds like he has a lisp, because it’s difficult to speak with his canines elongated. Nipping at the other man’s fingertips, he grins and knows the expression has to look out of place, “Better than scales, yeah?”

“Definitely,” Stiles agrees as he licks out along the fangs and kisses Jackson, still moving his hips a little and pumping their lengths in his hand, “It fits you a lot better than it did Scott, in the beginning. You-it just, it’s like you were made for it or something. It’s kinda hard thinking of you being without it.”

“It’s not that difficult, I think we can both remember what I was like when I was human,” Jackson says pointedly, then flips them suddenly and pins Stiles to the bed with his hips, “It’s changed me a lot,” he says and grinds down against the other man. Grabbing Stiles’s wrists, he pushes them up above the other man’s head and holds them there against the pillow as he leans down to nip at Stiles’s bottom lip.

Stiles arches up and gasps as he stares at Jackson, “Well, yeah, I can, but I mean-I just mean that it’s-it looks good on you,” he tries to explain, smiling sheepishly as he shifts against Jackson the best he can, “Not many of the others fit it as well as you do. And yeah, it’s changed you, but it’s definitely changed you for the better, no question about it. What are you doing?”

“Making sure you don’t get us off yet,” Jackson utters against Stiles’s lips and grins, “There was a reason I asked you to take a shower with me this morning,” he raises a brow, “And if we get off now, then that reason will be kind of void.” He shifts back to his human form and drops a quick, playful kiss to Stiles’s lips before standing up and moving from the bed, “Come on, Stilinski.”

Stiles gets up and raises his brows curiously, following Jackson and ignoring the throbbing bounce of his dick as he walks around, “Mm, are we gonna make out in the shower or something? Because I can seriously be into that.”

Jackson grabs Stiles’s hand and laces their fingers together as he walks him to the bathroom, marble tile cool on his bare feet, “Sounds nice, doesn’t it?” he spins around and pulls Stiles closer by his hand and wraps his arms around him for a moment, backing the other man up until his ass hits the counter.

“Both of us all wet, pressed together like this,” he reaches up and grabs the human’s face, clutching Stiles’s cheeks in his hands as he kisses him slowly, both of their cocks still hard and straining together.

“Yeah it does,” Stiles agrees numbly, his knees feeling suddenly weak as he kisses back and rests his hands on Jackson’s waist.

He’s still kind of getting used to the other man being so unusually dominant and responsive. Every time he thinks that he’s just making it up in his head or imagining it, Jackson does something to bring that thought back around. He’s not sure though if the change has to do with the other man being a werewolf, or just Jackson’s entire change in self-esteem and looking at himself differently, but it’s nice.

Jackson smiles affectionately and brushes their noses together before breaking the kiss, stepping away to start the shower. He leans into the stall and turns the nozzle, then holds his hand under the spray to make sure it’s nice and hot, then he grabs Stiles’s hand again and tugs him in under the water.

Stiles tilts back his head and lets the water cascade over him, closing his eyes as he feels his body relax against the spray. Normally he takes night showers, and he gets off in the mornings, but this is nice too. It’s a bit of a weird way to wake up, but as long as Jackson’s involved, he’s perfectly okay with it.

Jackson watches the way the water sluices down Stiles’s skin with rapt attention, eyes following the little droplets intently as he grins and steps a little closer. With Stiles’s hand still in his own, he pulls the other man closer until their chests are touching and he searches Stiles’s face, “I don’t think I ever fully appreciated how hot you are, I kinda feel like a jackass.”

Stiles opens his eyes again and looks at Jackson, a little confused where the comment comes from, “Uhm,” his cheeks heat as he stares at the werewolf, it’s an insanely nice compliment to hear from someone like Jackson. The other man may have changed a lot during his trip overseas, but he still has to have some pretty high standards, considering he was dating Lydia of all people.

“You kinda are a jackass, but there’s nothing wrong with that,” he says as he smirks, “Thanks, I mean, I’m gonna have to write that one down - pretty sure it’s a first, I’ll have to remind myself it actually happened.”

“Or I could just remind you regularly,” Jackson supplies and smiles as he lifts his shoulders in a feeble shrug, letting go of Stiles’s hands to settle both of his own on the other man’s hips.

“Or that,” Stiles agrees and his heart races a little as Jackson touches him, “That’s good too.” He wets his lips as he leans in to kiss the other man, “I wouldn’t complain if you did.”

“Good,”Jackson utters quietly against Stiles’s lips and his hands tighten on the slick flesh as he backs the other man up against the shower tile, “Because I probably will.”

Stiles reaches up to rest his elbows on Jackson’s shoulders, his hands brushing the other man’s shoulder blades, “You sure you didn’t hit your head in London?” he asks curiously, “I mean, all of this, it seems kind of like a stretch, doesn’t it? It probably seems different for you, but I just-I still don’t get it, why me?”

Jackson understands that it’s probably a little odd for anyone who knew him before to deal with his changes, because it’s still a little odd to himself. Having been a particular kind of person for so long, it’s not easy to let go of that and become someone new, someone better. He doesn’t really get Stiles’s last question, though, so he furrows his brows a little, “What do you mean?”

“I’m pretty sure you told me like a million times that if you were out, you wouldn’t be with me,” Stiles says, swallowing tightly, “You were like a broken record about it. I just-It doesn’t make sense. You’re out now, you **could** be with anyone, but you specifically went after me, you kinda even got like… really insistent. I don’t get it, I guess.”

“I think I said a lot of things I didn’t exactly mean back then,” Jackson admits, “I wasn’t a good person, I’m still not, not really, but I’m working on it. And so help me if you laugh, Stilinski, but… the heart wants what the heart wants, and I want you.”

Stiles wants to believe it, he does, he’s known for some time that he meant _something_ to Jackson - granted, he’s beginning to suspect that maybe it’s just some kind of comfort thing. It just sounds far too good to be true, and he feels like the werewolf is settling.

He nods, though, smiling slightly, “I don’t really see why I’d laugh,” he says and leans in to press short, quick kisses to the other man’s jaw, “I mean, it’s cheesy, kinda, but I think I’ve said cheesier things before.”

“It **is** cheesy,” Jackson confirms and rests his lips against Stiles’s shoulder, “But it’s the truth. I’ve…” he sighs, “I’ve had opportunities, I’ve been around people,” he says, instead of saying ‘other gay guys’, “It’s not like I’ve secluded myself, and even now, it’s just-it’s you. I wanna be with you.”

“One step at a time,” Stiles says back firmly, “I don’t wanna just jump into things like we did the first time,” he shakes his head as he realizes what he’s said, “I mean, don’t take that as an invitation. It **wasn’t** a lie, I want to, I just don’t think we should. It’s not a really healthy thing to do, considering… how it got before. I need it to be slow this time, at least _slower_ or something.”

“Slow is good, it’s fine,” Jackson kisses Stiles’s skin and leans back to look him in the eyes, “So long as you know how I feel about you, it doesn’t matter.”

“Well, it definitely came across loud and clear when you were backing me against my jeep,” Stiles says dismissively, “I’ve never been uh… twitterpated, before.”

“Twitterpated?” Jackson asks with a weak, amused grin, “What does that even mean?”

“Twitterpated,” Stiles repeats, chuckling tentatively, “Like _Bambi_? You know? You can’t be the only person on the planet that’s never seen that movie.”

“I’ve seen Bambi,” Jackson responds, trying to keep his tone from getting defensive, “But I still don’t know what twitterpated means. Are you gonna tell me?”

Stiles frowns and shrugs, “You know, like… you’re walking on air?” he says and makes an odd, vague motion with his arms, “Like you’ve been knocked for a loop? Like… all… like you meet this person and it’s like lightning, and-you know, _twitterpated_.”

“Wow,” Jackson says slowly and chuckles, thumbs brushing over Stiles’s hips, “And I thought what I said was cheesy, but that-that takes the cake.” He doesn’t want Stiles to think he’s poking fun or anything, though, so his smile softens and he presses a chaste kiss to the other man’s lips, “It’s cute.”

“Oh fuck you and your high horse,” Stiles responds, glaring at Jackson, “It’s a goddamn Disney movie, give me a break. Every person in the world knows what I’m talking about, and it’s not even slightly cheesy, it’s an actual thing, okay? Like, there’s no manly way to say it, unless I wanted to be obscene, but I was trying to be realistic.”

“Calm down,” Jackson says lowly in response, tugging Stiles’s hips from the wall and pulling them closer to his own as he levels the other man with a serious look, “I was joking, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Stiles blushes and tries to remain as calm as he can, even though he’s sure his erection prods Jackson somewhere, “You uh… keep staring at me like that and I’m gonna have to shove my dick in your mouth or something.”

Jackson continues to stare at Stiles for a moment longer, then the corner of his mouth pulls up into a wry smirk before he drops very carefully to his knees, “Go for it,” he says, looking up at Stiles through wet lashes.

Stiles’s stomach twists at the response and pauses for a moment, looking down at the werewolf before he collects himself and does just that. He grabs the back of Jackson’s neck with one hand, his other moving to run through his hair and tug him forward as Stiles arches his hips, pressing his dick to the other man’s lips.

* * *

“Are you sure you wanna do this?”

Jackson taps the steering wheel with his thumbs a few times before looking over at Stiles and smirking, “I’m sure.”

“There’s gonna be like… at least fifty students out in the parking lot, they’re all gonna see.”

“I’m okay with that.”

Stiles blinks, looking away and reaching up to brush his fingers through his hair nervously, “Everyone’s gonna know. I mean, coming with you to school… people read a lot into that.”

Jackson chuckles, “If you mean that they’ll think we’re fucking, they wouldn’t be wrong.”

Stiles swallows and feels his stomach squirm, “So is this official? Like we’re officially like… a _thing_?”

“I guess so.”

“How can you be so casual about this?” Stiles asks, looking back at Jackson as he finally pulls into his usual parking spot, “This was literally your worst nightmare before.”

“Because I **want** them to know we’re fucking,” Jackson says and reaches out to touch Stiles’s cheek, “I dunno why you’re freaking out. You’re out and people have seen us kiss-”

“On the cheek,” Stiles supplies and huffs when Jackson climbs out of the car. He climbs out too, grabbing his bag and moving to join Jackson. Sure enough, there are tons of students littering the walkway and their attention immediately turns to Stiles and Jackson, “Told you.”

Jackson shrugs, his hands moving to Stiles’s waist when they meet at the front of the car, “Who cares? You wanna see just how **little** I care?”

Stiles shrugs, “Yeah, sure, whatev-” he stops when Jackson leans in and kisses him on the lips. His heart nearly jumps out of his chest, and he hears the students gasp and start talking around them, but Stiles can’t really concentrate beyond Jackson thumbing his mouth open by tugging his chin down.

Jackson growls low in his chest, pressing his body close to Stiles’s as he arches his tongue into Stiles’s mouth, tasting him desperately and grabbing him by the back of the neck to hold him in.

Stiles’s stomach does flip flops when Jackson deepens the kiss even more. It feels like it lasts for minutes, and when Jackson finally lets him go he’s flushed and breathless. He smiles slowly as he stares at the other man, just as breathless as he is, “Okay, okay, I get it.”

“I hope so. That seemed pretty obvious.”

Stiles nods a few times and leans in to hug him, wrapping his arms around Jackson’s waist and brushing his lips against Jackson’s ear, “I love you,” he says lowly.

Jackson’s mouth opens and he frowns a little, “I… I want to-”

“Relax,” Stiles says and nips his earlobe, pulling back and kissing him quickly a few times, “I know you do, so chill.”

Jackson smirks and tugs Stiles close with one arm before leading him up to the sidewalk and past the dozens of awe-gaping students.

* * *

Stiles sits quietly in his class after lunch, he’s still reeling over practically making out with Jackson while he was trying to eat. Okay, it wasn’t that bad, but Jackson was so handsy that it might as well have been making out. He’s sure he has at least one hickey on neck, if not three. A few other peers in the class watch him and even a few try to ask him things, to which he just smiles and shrugs.

He glances up when he feels something hit his hand and meets Jackson’s eyes from the front of the classroom. Then he looks down to the paper football on his desk. The funny part is, that Jackson’s done this a thousand times in the past… asking for a booty call. So it confuses Stiles for a moment.

For just one second he feels like he’s back there, back when they weren’t so friendly to one another, back when it wasn’t official, and they snuck off to fuck in his jeep.

Stiles opens the letter and blinks in surprise.

> _‘Your jeep’_

And that’s it, literally like old times.

Stiles looks back up and meets those beautiful blue eyes, then he nods. Immediately he leans over and groans loudly in pain.

“Uh, is that an all purpose moan, or does it signify a certain problem, Stilinski?”

“Oh,” Stiles continues to groan, trying not to smirk, “I’m sorry to interrupt the class, sir, but… I think I’m dying. I think I need to see the nurse.”

* * *

“I can’t believe you,” Stiles shakes his head as Jackson climbs into the jeep with him, “And here I thought things were gonna be different when you came back.”

Jackson rolls his eyes, but smirks as he stuffs his backpack down between his legs and leans across the jeep as Stiles pulls out.

“Uh-” Stiles’s cheeks heat when Jackson starts to unbutton his pants, “What are you doing?”

“Showing you just _how_ different it’ll be,” Jackson says as he tugs Stiles’s cock out from his boxers.

“B-b-by g-giving me r-r-road head?” Stiles asks nervously, his eyes nearly bugging out when Jackson drops down and takes him fully into his mouth, “Oh fuck.”

Jackson groans around the salted flavor of Stiles’s cock. Since he first gave him head, he’s been craving it. It doesn’t help that being around Stiles, all he can smells is the sweaty scent of his genitals at literally any given time, especially when they’re practically glued together at lunch.

“Holy shit,” Stiles mutters at the loud, obscene slurping sounds, his toes curling in his shoes as he drops one hand to fist Jackson’s hair the best he can, “Goddamn, you give good head.”

It’s obvious that Stiles is nervous, so Jackson cups his calves in one hand, brushing it through his jeans as he moves his mouth up to the head of Stiles’s cock, sucking on only the tip as he flicks his eyes up to look at Stiles.

“Oh-” Stiles glances down and nearly swirves when the eyes flash up at him, “Jackson,” he mutters. He manages to make it to their usual spot, parking close to the trees on the driver’s side, “Okay, get in the back, I’m gonna fuck you brains out.”

Jackson lifts up and leans in to kiss Stiles, “No.”

Stiles narrows his brows, “What?”

Jackson opens the passenger’s side door and climbs out of the jeep.

And now Stiles is confused, he turns off the jeep and leans over a little, “Uh, what?” he nearly yelps when his door is opened and Jackson tugs him out, “What are you…” he stops when his pants are yanked down to his ankles and his chest is pushed against his seat, “Ohhhh-”

Jackson’s mouth is between his spread cheeks before Stiles can complain anymore and the smaller of the two just starts moaning and arching against him at once. Jackson mouths at the whorled rim, spreading Stiles’s legs a little and pulling him back against his lips.

“J-Jackson,” Stiles says, practically drooling at this point, “Ah-fuck,” he feels the hand move to push up his shirt and he tries to reach out to find one of his condoms that might still be in here. Suddenly, there are fingers in him and he slumps again, his muscles flexing around them before he relaxes. It’s okay, this is good, he’s fingered himself a thousand times, but Jackson’s are so-“Uuhhnngh,” he groans out low and long, feeling the fingers pumping into him quickly, his hard cock dripping pre-come all over his jeep.

“And you always say **I’m** the _‘bottom bottom’_ ,” Jackson snorts and kisses his ass cheek, sucking the skin into his mouth before standing back up and lightly patting the skin, “Look at you, you’re practically a slut for it.”

“Mmhmmm,” Stiles hums out, eyes lulling closed, “Yeah I am,” he slurs and then the fingers are gone, suddenly replaced by the blunt tip of Jackson’s cock. Stiles blinks and looks back in surprise, “Uh, you-you barebacking me?”

Jackson stops at once, staring back at Stiles, “Not if you don’t want me to.”

Stiles shakes his head, “N-no, I want you to,” he smirks, “You’re a werewolf, right? So I don’t have to worry about like STIs and stuff?”

Jackson tilts his head, “Huh, I guess not.”

Stiles nods then, “Do it,” he says confidently, and the Jackson punches in and Stiles lets out a sound unlike anything he’s ever heard from himself before. His whole body heats in embarrassment, his cheeks flushing red and he stays still on the seat as Jackson leans over him and starts fucking him quickly. It’s not like he is with Jackson, it’s desperate, feral, quick like a rabbit, “Ohhh yeaaah.”

Jackson growls out and tucks his face against Stiles’s neck, breathing him in deeply and not even trying to be subtle about it. His whole body shakes as the jeep rocks with his movements and he wraps his arms around, gripping the insides of Stiles’s thighs before humping him in a fevered race.

“Oh-Jacks~on,” Stiles groans out his name, his cock jammed between him and the side of the seat, rubbing against it roughly until Stiles feels the hand grip the head of it. His mouth drops open as  it wrings the tip with his foreskin. Never during sex has Stiles felt so helpless, he can’t even move, he can barely think, all he can do is make wild sounds.

“I can smell your come,” Jackson growls out between his fangs and he smirks when Stiles tilts his head to look at him. Their eyes meet and all Stiles can do is whimper before spilling his seed all over Jackson’s hand. He reaches up, pressing his fingers into Stiles’s gaping open mouth, being mindful of his claws.

Stiles probably would’ve come twice the second he could taste himself in his mouth, if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s already done it like five times today. He moans and stares at Jackson still as he sucks on Jackson’s fingers, tongue flicking carefully over the sharp claws.

Jackson’s mouth pops open as he watches Stiles and he drops his nose back down to his neck, breathing him in once more, “Mine,” he says huskily, licking the beads of salt from his skin, “Mine, mine,” his hand cups Stiles’s jaw, the come left on it sticking the skin of his palm to Stiles’s cheek as his movements become more frantic.

“Yours,” Stiles assures him, the thrusts almost painful at this point, but it feels so good that he doesn’t even bother to mention it. He reaches up numbly, scratching behind Jackson’s ear before gripping the back of his head to holding him close, “Totally yours, dude.”

Jackson looks back up at Stiles, staring into his eyes as he comes, the feeling of release tightening his muscles. He touches his forehead to Stiles’s and smirks, “I’m yours, too.”

Stiles chuckles and kisses him, “That’ll do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry, it’s been so long since I’ve updated this fic, as a secondary note, I’m ending it completely here. Not only is it a good place to cut off, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to really complete it if I don’t end it here.    
>  I’m currently werking on original content instead of fanfiction and I just don’t have time to post werks like this. I’ve had a lot of personal problems over the last few months that make it difficult to motivate myself to even look at these fanfics, and really they just a waste of my energy. But I love you guys, I love my readers. So I’m trying. If you want more, there’s my original werk on my Tumblr, and there are fics in the [Vault](http://cammerel.tumblr.com/Fic%20Sorter) that I might not ever even post.   
>  -Cammerel

**Author's Note:**

> I told you it would happen, and now I've kept my werd. Hopefully this isn't TOO late of an update.
> 
> -Cammerel


End file.
